America: Starting with Daily Intelligence

"If you had done this earlier, would we have needed to rough you up? People are just stubborn, always needing to learn the hard way before they comply." Melvin adjusted the camera and complained.

Maji glanced at the boxed meal in his hands, which still bore the logo of Green Word Shelter, a standard Initiation Package from the Beggar Gang, three dishes and a soup, you sure are living it up.

Allen Zhang also sat on the chair, his arms crossed, and asked solemnly, "Start confessing."

Maji looked at a little brother who was pulled out of a pit by the Beggar Gang Disciples, slumped on the ground with weak legs, gasping heavily, all of them terrified. They were almost buried alive.

What kind of scavenger team is this, it's totally a legit black... something!

At this point, despite greatly reluctant, Maji had no choice but to compromise, fiddling with his boxed meal and said hesitantly, "It all started a week ago. My friends and I were picking up trash on the streets of Seventh District..."

"Stop!" Allen Zhang along with Zorro and a group of eager Beggar Gang Disciples were listening intently to his story when Melvin suddenly called a halt.

"What's wrong?" asked Allen Zhang.

"Boss, my camera wasn't focused properly, this angle won't work, it's too exposed. We should shift it aside a bit," Melvin said apologetically.

"Okay." Allen Zhang nodded and immediately signaled the Beggar Gang Disciples to move the location. Maji, bewildered, was picked up and shifted under the shade of a tree.

"Alright, you can continue now," Melvin said, satisfied after checking the camera.

Maji felt more like he was shooting a documentary than being interrogated, and he was the star.

Luckily, he had some experience on film sets, though he was never chosen by any risqué film director because he was deemed too 'small', but he knew how to relax in front of a camera.

Suppressing his resentment and humiliation, he took a deep breath and continued, "A week ago, my friends and I were still picking up cans in the streets of Seventh District. It was around ten at night when my friends and I were about to leave to have some fun. We just bought some expiring beer and fried chicken from a convenience store, planning to have a midnight snack, when a middle-aged Caucasian man stepped out of a Cadillac and approached us, offering us a job right away..."

"Stop!!" Melvin interrupted again.

"And what now?" Maji asked puzzled.

"Can't you infuse some emotion into it? Some street vibe? Do you usually speak in a monotone like you're just reading a script? I'm telling you! This video is meant for the judges at court! Not just for us to keep! You need to convey relaxation."

Melvin scolded, "You burned down several millions and killed more than a dozen people, you're a killer Demon, you ought to feel guilty!!"

Allen Zhang glanced at the footage, the other party's hands trembling like a sieve, clearly under coercion. This footage couldn't possibly be used as court evidence.

"How am I not relaxed? I'm about to shit myself..." Maji was at his breaking point, unable to bear the humiliation.

You can say I'm incompetent, a total failure, a 30-plus man still scavenging on the streets for a living, I truly am a complete loser.

But claiming I can't act, I don't accept that!

"Continue," Allen Zhang said expressionlessly.

Seeing the General Sect Leader had spoken, Maji had no choice but to buckle down, taking several deep breaths and earnestly trying to perform, but he was stopped again by Melvin after a few sentences.

"Can't you show some physical language! Can you talk while eating? Are that boxed meal and Dr. Pepper just damn props? They're meant for you to eat! We gave you food and asked you about something, only then did you agree to tell the truth, get it?"

Maji numbly nodded.

"I get it."

"A guy stepped out of the Cadillac and said he had a job for us, something big. He offered us sixty thousand US Dollars to process and sell it to Pike Recycling. We bribed K-car drivers, smacking lips..."

"Your lines!"

"Lines?" Maji asked puzzled.

"Fxxk you!" Melvin cursed.

...

Allen Zhang watched the continually interrupted filming in silence, feeling for the first time how hard it is to make a documentary.

Especially when you can't let it appear as if you're coercing someone; the truth must come out voluntarily, otherwise unless the opposing lawyer is Mr. Dave, there'd be a thousand ways to argue.

"If you weren't pointing a gun at me, or giving me a leaf, I think I'd tell the truth. They gave me sixty thousand US dollars, and you're winning me over with just a meal? That's not reasonable!" Maji protested.

"He has a point there!" Melvin exclaimed as if he had an epiphany.

Allen Zhang looked at him and said, "Forget about the leaf, we don't smoke that stuff here. But we have alcohol. And regular cigarettes."

He glanced at Zorro.

...

Zorro's lips twitched, he pulled out his Zero lighter and a pack of Marlboro, tossing them over, cursing, "Go easy, damn it, this pack of Marlboro is 36 US Dollars."

"That'll work," Maji grudgingly agreed.

Allen Zhang then allowed the Beggar Gang Disciples to release a few of his good buddies too, everyone grabbed a boxed meal, and they gulped down half a bottle of vodka in no time, instantly feeling more relaxed, Melvin resumed filming.